


Derek Hale Tried to Kiss Me Today

by stileskolpath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Bodyswap, Derek Loves Stiles, Derek is a Failwolf, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Not Underage, Sheriff Stilinski Doesn't Know, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Dad, Stiles Loves Derek, Stiles and Sheriff bodyswap, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileskolpath/pseuds/stileskolpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knew this wasn’t a good idea. But it was kind of his fault. Well, Derek’s really. He’s the asshole that had told him that shield spells would be a good idea, what with the rogue group of succubi that had temporarily set up camp just outside the Hale-McCall Pack territory.</p>
<p>Seriously, magic hates him, and he doesn't know why he uses it.</p>
<p>AKA that one time when he accidentally switched bodies with his dad and things did not go as planned</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hale Tried to Kiss Me Today

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based on a tumblr post found here: http://hoechlined.tumblr.com/post/61588188407/i-want-a-fic-where-the-sheriff-and-stiles-swap
> 
> It's my first bodyswap!au, so bear with me.
> 
> -SK

Stiles knew this wasn’t a good idea. But it was kind of his fault. Well, Derek’s really. He’s the asshole that had told him that shield spells would be a good idea, what with the rogue group of succubi that had temporarily set up camp just outside the Hale-McCall Pack territory.

Stiles didn’t believe him at first, until he saw one of the she-demons walk right up to some unsuspecting dude and begin sucking his essence from his body, without him even noticing it. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

It didn’t matter that the pack had already ventured to the encampment in all its leather-clad, threatening glory to meet with them. The visit was uneventful. Apparently their leader, a tall, powerful-looking woman with red eyes and even redder hair, Melis-something, Stiles couldn’t catch it at the time, didn’t want trouble. She and her fledgling she-demons were just passing through, on their way up to Seattle to meet with one of the larger denizens for some kind of mating rite. As long as they were allowed to feed during their stay, she assured the pack that their town would be safe.

Derek had amended that by requesting that they not kill anyone while feeding, either. Meli-whatever’s eyes had flashed just then, and flicked to Stiles briefly. He was the only human male in the pack, and he suddenly felt like some kind of steak. She was a succubus after all. It made his heartbeat pick up with anxiety. Derek had growled at her in response. A knowing smile spread briefly across her lips, before she agreed to the terms, and turned to stride back towards the center of the camp, her acolytes following her dutifully.

Stiles had gone home that night, and started looking up shield spells, magical boundaries, and everything he possibly could, simply because that Meli-whatever chick had given him the creeps. And the one from before. All of them really. They were demons, after all.

After hours of searching, and being sucked into one random ADD-encouraged informational rabbit-hole after another, Stiles discovered two things. One, shield spells were notoriously difficult to complete, but if done correctly, could be easily duplicated on multiple people and keyed to a specific threat. And two, the type of spell Stiles would need was the worst of the bunch, because not only did it protect the body of the subject, but it also had defensive layers in place to safeguard the soul. It was specifically designed to combat succubi, incubi, and any other life-force slurping creature and/or power.

And apparently most of the other spells only protected one or the other. But whatever, Stiles figured that you know, in order for the pack to not die, they would need all their bases covered, at least until the group of she-demons had left the area. So he had gathered all the necessary ingredients (there was even a cauldron involved, which was just… too cliche), and done it. And for the most part, it had worked.

Except for one, teensy detail.

He was now standing in front of the bathroom mirror, and looking into his father’s face.

"Well fuck." It was that moment, when he heard his own voice utter the most blood-curdling scream he had ever heard. He cringed, because hooray, his dad was up.

“STILES! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!" He heard footsteps storming down the hall toward the bathroom. The door slammed open, and he was looking at his own face, twisted in anger, with a little bit of fear around the edges. "I’ve made my peace with the werewolves, the magical bullshit, and all the rest of it, but this?" Stiles watched himself gesture emphatically to his whole being (something that his dad would never do, like ever), takes it too far."

"Oh, believe me, I know,” Stiles agreed. “For what it’s worth, I was just trying to help. There were these demons, and they suck peoples’ souls out through their—"

His dad cut him off. “I don’t want to hear about it. We need to figure out how the hell we are going to handle this, right now.” Stiles saw the vein on the side of his neck strain as he yelled. Is that really what I look like angry?

"Well, it looks like you are going to school, and I am, what, going to work?" The statement was essentially a question. Stiles felt the slightest excitement, because that meant that he would not have to go to school, would get to drive his dad’s cruiser (which he had never ever done before, by the way), and carry a gun, whilst bossing other people around.

"Absolutely not," the Sheriff said, reading Stiles’ mind as he crossed his arms over his chest. His Stiles-is-thinking-about-being-a-little-shit senses tingling. "You are taking a personal day. And I am taking the keys to the cruiser."

Stiles moaned in protest, but it was probably for the best. He figured the power would wind up going to his head, and let’s be real, he would most likely spend the day trying to find some way to mess with Derek, or Jackson. Or Isaac. Really anyone. Thoughts of random vehicle towings, searches with drug dogs, and accidental tazer-ings coming to mind. Probably not a good idea.

Seriously. It was almost as bad as his dad going to school for him.

Stiles did not enjoy the prospect of his dad walking around aimlessly in vain attempts to find Stiles’ classes, or awkwardly talking to his friends and teachers in the gruff, sheriff-y way. It would probably wind up with him getting in serious trouble later on. Not to mention, his dad was awkward at the best of times, around people his own age. Stiles could only imagine how the day would go with his dad in Stiles’ body, interacting with teenagers.

He shuddered at the thought. “Fine. But then we need to talk about how to behave at school.” Stiles wrapped his dad’s arm over his shoulder, drawing a skeptical gaze from himself in the process.

"I can probably do it better than you, you know. I’ve done it before" Stiles raised his dad’s eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, really? First of all, that was like what, a hundred years ago?” Stiles’ dad-self scoffed. “And second, tell me, what’s my first class of the day today?" Stiles loved loaded questions.

There was a pause while his dad furrowed Stiles’ brow, trying to remember from the printed schedule Stiles had given him from the beginning of the semester. “English. Your first period is english.”

Stiles laughed derisively. “Wrong. My first class today is calculus.”

"But the schedule on the fridge says—" Stiles cut his dad off.

"It’s a rotating schedule. Each day the sequence changes."

"Shit. Well I’m screwed then." Stiles saw himself raise a palm to his forehead and slide it upward through his hair, an unmistakable stress-gesture of the elder Stilinski. "Crap, what if this goes on longer than a day? How the hell is that going to work?" Stiles could hear the edge of fear in his own voice.

Stiles shrugged as the pair made their way downstairs. “Relax, I’ll fill you in on everything you need to know before you leave.”

—

By the time Stiles watched himself hop into the jeep and pull out of the driveway with way more caution than he himself ever had, he felt like he could almost handle this. He had texted Scott and told him the situation, and told his dad to stick close to him at school. They had all but one class together every day, including homeroom, so if his dad followed his directions exactly, he would be fine, mostly. He had also assured his dad that the effects were only temporary, lasting about twenty-four hours or so, just until the group of she-demons packed up their crap and left, sometime this evening.

Stiles did not envy Scott the awkward fun he was going to have today, with his dad, the big, gruff sheriff, trying to figure out how the hell to survive among the loud, obnoxious, and even abrasive teenagers that populated the school. Stiles laughed at the thought of him trying to figure out his locker combo, or figuring out which building to run to for his next class as he strode back into the house. He was less worried than he had been when he woke up this morning. Especially since he knew he had the day off now.

What could go wrong?

—

Stiles heard the jeep pull up, just as he was confirming his mistake on the spell. Apparently the word for “guarding” in the portion of the incantation, the half of it that involved protecting the soul, was very similar to the word for “transferring”. And since Stiles had done the spell on the pack two-at-a time (because for some reason the book had said that the spell needed to be completed in pairs, on people who were related, either by blood or family-bond, so that if one person was being attacked, their protection could be bolstered by the other person they had been protected with. It was all very confusing), when he cast the protection around himself and his dad, his tongue had slipped, and he had essentially created the magical shield around the both of them, while essentially switching out their souls.

Apparently it was that easy. You’d think a soul-ectomy and transplant would be more complicated. Luckily it hadn’t happened on anyone else from the pack. Stiles had checked. Scott said that Cora was fine, so that meant that Derek was too. He and his mom didn’t feel any different either. Allison said she felt fine too, as did Lydia, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and the rest.

Well at least Stiles had only made one mistake.

That much he could reassure his father. He plodded down the stairs as he heard the front door unlock, almost to the bottom when he saw his dad-self drag in a handcuffed and disheveled-looking Derek Hale behind him and throw him onto the sofa roughly.

Okay, so maybe Stiles had made two mistakes…

"Uhhh…" was all that Stiles managed to get out while his dad closed the door. Stiles’ eyes flicked to Derek, who was glaring at the ground, his face almost beet-red. "Want to know what happened today at school?"

Nope. Absolutely not.

"Not particularly, no." Stiles suddenly felt like he was sinking. Because he still hadn’t told his dad that he and Derek had been seeing each other. This was sooooo not good.

"Well," his dad sighed, coming to stand behind the couch over Derek’s hunched form. "I’m going to tell you anyway." He wrapped a firm hand over Derek’s shoulder and gave a squeeze, making the werewolf wince a little. "So I had finished your classes for the day with Scott, who talks way too much by the way, and was on my way to my free period. I figured I would go to the library or something, you know, blend in. Then this guy shows up,” he shook Derek’s shoulder for emphasis, “throws me against a wall, and starts…" He waved his hand around, as if he didn’t want to say the words.

Stiles’ gut sank to his toes as he realized. Because Derek would occasionally surpise Stiles when he knew he was free at school, suddenly popping up in the breezeway or something to push him up against a wall and kiss him fiercely. He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod…”

The sheriff sighed. “Yeah… You can imagine how… surprised I was by that. Needless to say, I did not take it well. Hence the handcuffs.”

"Oh god, dad, I was going to tell you. I swear. I just- I was waiting- I didn’t know- I- ughhh, this is a nightmare." Stiles willed the ground to open up underneath his feet and swallow him whole.

Between them, Derek was still completely, deathly silent. He was attempting to burn a hole in the floor with his scowl, his face still an unnatural shade of humiliated red.

Stiles couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at either of them, actually. His heart was racing in his chest, and his stomach was threatening to tie itself into a complicated, painful knot. Seriously, if he died at this exact moment, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have an issue with it.

"Stiles," his dad spoke calmly, in a tone that Stiles never used himself. "Relax. Look, I was… surprised. That’s all. I just- why didn’t you tell me this was going on?"

Stiles was not taking questions at the moment. He was too busy trying to fling his mind off a cliff. “I don’t know. I was worried. I mean, you arrested him that one time, and—”

"Which you set him up for, if I remember correctly." Fair point.

"And I just… wasn’t sure how you’d take it…" Stiles stammered.

And to his surprise, his dad chuckled. “You were worried how I would take it? Stiles, we live in a town populated by werewolves. I watched your best friend, a kid who I’ve known since he was six, turn into one right in front of my eyes last year, right before one of your teachers kidnapped me and dragged me to some dungeon with Melissa and Chris.” He paused. “And you were worried that I’d be upset because my son was apparently dating one of them? Please. Give me some credit.”

Stiles took a second, and looked at his own, surprisingly calm face. He had expected his dad to be furious, for any number of reasons if and when he ever told him about Derek. The age difference, the fact that they were both dudes, the werewolf thing, the exonerated criminal thing, all of it were contingencies Stiles had prepared himself for.

He never really expected this.

"So you’re actually okay with this?" Stiles asked, his dad’s voice cracking with surprise.

"Almost." The sheriff gave the back of Derek’s head a whack. "You,” he said as Derek’s eyes went wide with something between fear and surprise, “stop sneaking onto school grounds in the middle of the day. If I catch you there again like that, I will get your ass arrested." He turned to where Stiles was still frozen on the steps. "And you…" he paused, hunting for words. "Tell me things. Talk to me about this stuff. I don’t need the intimate details, but I don’t want to find out something like this," he waved a hand at Derek, who was still scowling at the floor, "ever again. Am I clear?"

Stiles felt kind of ridiculous as his dad’s voice answered through his mouth in unison with Derek’s. “Yes, sir.”

"Good." Stiles saw himself give a satisfied nod. "Oh, and one more thing, Derek," he leaned over the back of the couch to make eye contact with the werewolf. "Stiles’ bedroom window squeaks. If you want to drop by, just use the door like a normal person.” Derek’s ears now joined the party as the latest body part to flush deep red. He locked his gaze back onto the floor as Stiles’ dad-self walked around the front of the sofa to unlock his handcuffs. He said something quietly as he was doing it, and Stiles saw the red disappear from Derek’s face, replaced with an almost translucent white. The werewolf gave a weak nod. The sheriff clapped him on the shoulder, and Derek left, without another word to either of them.

Stiles’ dad turned back to face him. “Now that’s settled, what do you want to do for dinner? I have a craving curly-fries for some reason.”

Stiles laughed nervously, still kind of in shock. “That sounds fantastic.”

—

The next morning, Stiles woke up in his own room. He looked around, a brief, terrified feeling sweeping through him as his mind struggled to recognize that he wasn’t where he fell asleep. Then he realized. The spell. He flew out of bed, flailing as he nearly tripped over his desk chair and skidded into the bathroom. He flicked on the light, and nearly jumped for joy. Because looking back at him was his own reflection. The spell had worn off. He was back. He flailed happily and called for his dad to tell him the news.

When he didn’t get an answer, he walked down to see his dad’s bed already made, and a note on his nightstand.

—

Whatever you did wore off last night. Went in early to catch up on what I missed yesterday. Breakfast is in the fridge. If you see Derek today (which I am sure you will), tell him the good news, and that I expect him to be here for dinner tonight.

Love,

Dad

P.S. I forgot how exhausting it was to be a teenager. I don’t know how you do it.

—

Stiles smiled to himself before he went downstairs to scarf down the breakfast his dad had left him. After hopping in the shower and changing, he headed off to school. Turns out, his dad hadn’t made him commit social suicide or anything while he was there. Scott said that he almost forgot that he wasn’t Stiles a few times. Everybody else said the same thing. Though they all agreed that it was a little disconcerting, because nobody had ever really seen Stiles that quiet. He wasn’t sure how to take that.

That afternoon during his free period, Derek didn’t surprise him like usual. Instead of throwing him up against the nearest wall, which Stiles didn’t really mind, but that is a discussion for a different time, the werewolf tapped him lightly, almost fearfully, on the shoulder.

“Stiles?” The human turned around.

“Hey, you. What’s up?”

“Are you… back to normal?” He squinted searchingly at Stiles’ face, his seafoam-and-gold-flecked eyes flicking back and forth between Stiles’ amber-brown ones.

Stiles entertained the thought of doing his best Sheriff impression before he abruptly decided against it.

“Yes, dude. I’m back.” Derek eyed him suspiciously, not hearing a lie where he expected one. Stiles just rolled his eyes, because he knew that Derek was probably going to be paranoid about this whole thing for the next forever. He sighed, and began word-vomitting everything he could to prove it. “We started dating a year ago. You like it when I kiss your neck. You have to sleep on the side of the bed facing the door. You check all your windows religiously each night. You secretly love sci-fi movies and hate that I beat you at chess. When we have sex, you like to bo—”

“Okay, okay, I got it. You’re you.” Derek shook his head. “I just… wanted to be sure.”

Stiles smiled and stepped into his boyfriend’s personal space, crowding their feet against each other as he slid his hands up the werewolf’s stubbly jaw. He pressed their lips together gently. Derek’s hands slid around his waist, pads of his thumbs slipping underneath the hem of Stiles’ shirt as he let out a breath. It was a quick kiss, a quiet unfinished moment that was destined to be completed later.

Stiles pulled back, nerves in his lips still tingling slightly from where Derek’s had been pressed against them.

“Convinced?” He added a self-satisfied smile and licked Derek’s taste off of his lips. Derek just rolled his eyes.

“Now I am. Although to be fair, your dad was a pretty good kisser too.” Stiles punched his shoulder, drawing a quick hiss of pain from the werewolf.

“That is just- no. Ew. Say nothing like that ever again, or this is the last time I even let you near me.”

Derek sighed. “Just like old times, then.”

“Oh, shut up,” Stiles retorted. “By the way, dad said he expects you for dinner tonight.” The color drained from Derek’s face slightly. “Relax, Sourwolf. It’s just dinner. He’s not going to try to kill you or anything.”

“I’m not convinced. He had handcuffs with him yesterday. Handcuffs. Who does that?” Stiles bit back a laugh, sensing it would just get him glared at angrily. Derek continued. “And, to top it off, he told me that if I ever hurt you, he would kill me. He said he’d get some wolfsbane bullets from Chris Argent and hunt me for sport.” Stiles couldn’t stop the chuckle this time. That sounded exactly like something his dad would say.

“I expect nothing less.” Stiles agreed, and slipped out of Derek’s hold to wrap one of his hands a his own, lacing their fingers together as they started walking towards the school parking lot. “But I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that now, will I?” He gave Derek a playful little nudge.

“Of course not. I value my life.” Stiles chuckled with mock incredulity at Derek’s sudden wit and nudged him again. “Speaking of, maybe use a different shield spell next time, so I don’t have any more awkward makeout sessions with anyone else’s family members?”

“Hey, you better be careful, or I’ll make sure we’re the ones who get switched next time.” Derek cocked an eyebrow at Stiles, neither entirely sure that would be a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments and kudos before you go.
> 
> And stop by my tumblr for more Sterek-related stuff! Seriously, stop by, maybe even give it a follow (i'm at 399... ugh)  
> here's the URL: watchthewolvesrun.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> -SK


End file.
